


Priapus

by Svartalfur



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-29
Updated: 2011-04-29
Packaged: 2017-10-18 19:13:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/192288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Svartalfur/pseuds/Svartalfur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus behaves very oddly. Albus is affected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Priapus

The gargoyle at the entrance to the Headmaster's office held a sock in its claw, black and worn and with a hole where the big toe should be. Albus took and sniffed it. _Students_ , he thought and decided to give a pair of socks to every single one of them for Christmas. The idea of hundreds of students clad in fancy socks made him smile. Contemplating an army of warm and comfortable feet, he tripped over a boot.

The boot was just as threadbare as the sock, the black leather cracking and the toes scuffed. It had a long shaft, stud hooks, and the bootlace was mended so often that magic had failed. The owner had resorted to spelling it into knots that reminded Albus of the beads of a rosary. Albus sighed. He knew this boot. He saw it every morning at breakfast, lurking under dark robes and impatiently kicking its heels. Several times a day he saw it walking the floors in an elegant stride, belying its miserable state. The monotonous click-clack of its sole had sung him to sleep during more than one boring staff meeting.

Sensing trouble, Albus turned around. A matching boot dangling from the chandelier in the hallway didn't bode well, and why was Lachlan the Lanky looking so grim? Albus removed a crumpled sock from the statue's slightly open mouth. Lachlan sputtered marble dust all over Albus's purple sleeve and continued doing what he always did: watching the tapestry of Bogdan the Boar with a besotted expression.

"Where's Professor Snape?" Albus asked.

Bogdan scratched his beard and leaned on his club. After long moments of eye-rolling and forehead-crumpling he finally pointed in the direction of the Owlery. "Thank you," Albus said, but Bogdan had only eyes for the stone wizard in front of him.

If Albus had had any doubts about the tapestry's reliability, they vanished at the sight of dark robes, carelessly draped over the suit of armour guarding the entrance to West Tower. Cautiously freeing them from the armour's rusty grasp, Albus let his fingers trail along the greasy spots on the collar. It wasn't for the first time that he wondered how something so shapeless like wizard's robes could look so elegant when worn by the right wizard. Of course, Severus was special. Albus quickly withdrew his fingers, folded Severus's robes over his arm and hastened up the stairs, followed by tinny laughter.

The door leading to the Owlery was adorned with green underpants, slightly worn but otherwise spotless. Pulling himself together, Albus refrained from sniffing them and opened the door. He was greeted by a spectacular sight.

Severus's skin was paler than the moonlight that fell through the many glassless windows high above his head. He moved in circles, displaying his naked body in a slow dance. Hundreds of owls sat on perches that rose on the walls of the circular room like the seats of a steep amphitheatre. They were watching with half-open eyes, sated Romans who'd seen too many slaves and martyrs to be interested in the show anymore. From time to time, one of them would regurgitate the skeleton of a vole or that of a mouse and drop it at Severus's feet, an offering to the gods.

Severus's feet, covered in owl droppings and straw, were a pitiable sight. Albus's eyes didn't linger but followed too-thin legs up to where Severus's cock stood long and thick and gorgeous. Elegant fingers stroked it in a slow, seducing rhythm. It reminded Albus of the enormous member of a fertility god, and he wanted to fall to his knees and worship it. He moved back against the wall instead, hiding in the shadows and pressing his growing erection through the fabric of his robes.

It wasn't enough. Albus lifted his robes and took himself in hand. After merely a few strokes he came harder than he had in the last fifty years.

He looked up and was instantly horrified. Severus's face wasn't that of a drunk. It didn't show signs of delirium or trance. It was distorted, full of pain and rage, the face of a man who fought with every fibre of his being.

Albus cast a quick Finite Incantatem. When it didn't work, he Transfigured Severus's robes into a large blanket and wrapped it around Severus's shivering form. Severus's glare was furious, but he let himself be guided out of the Owlery and to Albus's office, his hard prick poking Albus with every step.

* * *

 **Mandrake Draught**

Mandrake Draught _or_ Essence de Mandragora _is one of the most powerful antidotes against the effects of Petrification caused by the stare of a Basilisk as well as that of the Gorgon Medusa. It's to be applied on the palms of the hands and the soles of the feet. The ingredients are rain water, powdered moonstone and the slices of mature mandrake roots. To enhance the power of the draught, the rain has to be collected at the new moon. The brewer be aware of the disastrous consequences of choosing immature mandrakes. Even the slightest contamination with pubescent mandrake roots will change the effects of the draught and result in the dark and dangerous_ Priapus Potion. _(See Chapter Nine, Potions of the Night.)_ *****

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me you're a virgin, Seve..."

Albus stopped short in the doorway to his office. Severus was lying on Albus's favourite chair with his legs spread wide. He was touching himself while the chair hovered in the middle of the room, slowly revolving on its own axis. The portraits were watching, their mouths open and their hands suspiciously hidden under their robes. Dilys Derwent moved up and down lasciviously. The rustling of her voluminous skirts drowned out her soft gasps. Her cheeks were heated, and her eyes glittered. Phineas Nigellus had a wet spot on his robes, and Armando Dippet was completely naked, stroking his tiny painted cock in rhythm with Severus's motions.

Albus raised his wand. Curtains appeared and covered the portraits. Moans turned into muttered protests, but soon the portraits fell silent. Severus's chair stopped spinning and moved in front of Albus.

"Can't I leave you alone for five minutes," Albus said, shaking his head. He picked up from the floor the blanket-that-had-been-Severus's-robes and threw it at Severus.

"You better cover yourself," he said in his no-nonsense headmaster voice, averting his eyes. He was already hard again and wished nothing more than to jump Severus here and now.

"I'll do whatever you wish," Severus said. His face was still distorted, and his voice sounded mocking.

Albus fled behind his desk, hiding his hard-on and preserving his dignity. He forced his hands to stay still and on top of the desk. Severus's chair hovered closer, and Albus's hands balled into fists. "So why didn't you tell me you're a virgin?" he asked.

* * *

 **Priapus Potion**

Priapus ****** _or_ Priapos Potion _is rightly classified as dark. Its origins are unknown. The widely accepted belief that it has been invented in ancient Greece as a ritual potion is pure speculation. The first documented use was in 1488 (Freya the Frigid, Annals of Hogsmeade). It soon became popular among the wizarding ruling class, infamous for their dumb and brutal behaviour, and was outlawed by the Warlock's Council in 1639. Its effects on virgins are disastrous. A witch, wizard or a Muggle who has never penetrated or been penetrated sexually will suffer from constant arousal and a painful enlargement of the genitals. They will also experience an indomitable urge to expose themselves to others in the most obscene ways. In return, the sight of the unfortunate victim causes arousal and the strong desire to have sexual intercourse. Not only living humans are affected, but also portraits and ghosts. The only known cure is sexual penetration, be it active or passive._ *******

* * *

"I didn't know it was in the job description," Severus said. "Potions master wanted. Teaching skills, expert knowledge in brewing and sexual experience required."

"I'm sorry, Severus. It seems that there was a teenage rebellion among the mandrakes. A group of adolescents have driven the adults out of their pots. You know how difficult it is to distinguish immature from mature mandrakes after they have developed their knots. Pomona is incredibly sorry. She asked me to tell you that she's willing to do anything to help you. _Anything_."

If it was possible, Severus looked even more irate. "I don't care for Pomona Sprout's favours," he said, stroking himself vigorously. The blanket slipped away and exposed his huge cock.

"Of course not." Albus wiped the saliva from his mouth. "I know of a very discreet establishment in Dionysus Drive. The owner is an old friend of mine. If I Floo her now, she'll immediately provide you with a cure. Her young ladies are famous for their beauty."

Severus shook his head. "I'm not interested in those kind of ladies."

Albus wondered how Severus managed to speak in complete sentences. The air was heavy with an earthy scent Albus couldn't quite identify, and breathing proved to be difficult. Sweat was running down his forehead, and like a petulant child, his prick insisted to be touched. Albus concentrated hard on his hands. "You need help," he said. Severus's next words shattered his world.

"I'm not interested in ladies at all."

For the first time in over a hundred years, Albus was speechless, in the full and terrifying sense of the word.

"I thought I wouldn't live to see the day," Severus said. The strain in his face belied the irony in his voice. He looked down to where his hands were busy fondling his cock, and Albus followed his eyes. _I mustn't. I mustn't._

"I'm devastated to have to disabuse you of the notion that you're the only poofter in the world, the British Isles, or even Hogwarts."

If Severus would only shut up. What was he to do? The boys. Yes. The boys from Dionysus Drive. Albus smiled. "I'll get help," he said.

"Why don't you do the honours yourself?"

"Impossible." Albus noticed that his treacherous hands had crawled under the table and lifted his robes.

"Sweet Merlin," he said, bucking up into his hands. _I mustn't._

"It only makes sense. It was an accident at work, and you as my employer -"

"Stop it!"

Severus hovered closer, so close that he could see what Albus's hands were doing under the table. Albus couldn't interpret the sparkle in Severus's eyes. Greed? Spitefulness? Lust? Whatever it was, it made Albus shiver.

"I can see that you want me," Severus said. "I've seen it before - your eyes, following me everywhere, watching my every step. Now's your opportunity. Carpe diem, Headmaster."

Albus pulled at his cock and found himself unable to suppress a moan. _I mustn't. It would be so easy, Severus said so himself. I mustn't!_

"I'm a virgin by choice, but since my defloration is inevitable, I'd rather be with someone I trust."

"Severus, my boy, don't you understand ..." Albus pulled himself together. The situation was ridiculous. He had to bring it to an end.

"I'll Floo for help," he said with all the authority he could muster. "You'll see, the soft skin of a boy, burying yourself in the tight heat ..." Albus couldn't go on. There were tears running down his face, and he didn't have the strength to wipe them away.

"Methinks you read too many cheap romance novels. My own fantasies centre around powerful wizards, wizards so strong that they burn me with their magic, burn me and take me and -"

Albus couldn't fly, and asked later, he would deny it, but there was a moment when he floated through the air, unbound by gravity, before he crashed down on top of Severus and silenced him with his mouth. A struggle of tongues, of limbs, and Albus grabbed for his wand, thrusting it down and performing the old spell, the spell Gellert had taught him. With slippery fingers, he pushed inside Severus.

Severus's skin wasn't golden like Gellert's, wasn't soft like that of the boys. It was sallow and scarred and too thin over protruding ribs. Albus licked his way down to where Severus's cock stood, enormous, red and angry. He licked along the shaft, licked the hairy balls, and then he followed the thick vein up to the head again and sucked it into his mouth. Severus tasted like salt and smelled like earth. He was a satyr, a god, and Albus would have him, make him his own. No more thoughts of what he must and mustn't do came to his mind. Fate had spoken. He scissored his fingers and found the nodule he was aiming for.

Severus howled. "Do it already, old man."

Albus pulled out his fingers and slapped Severus on the back of his thigh. "I'll show you what this _old man_ still can do."

The chair creaked and groaned when Albus shifted his weight. He slid down to the floor and motioned for Severus to pull up his legs. Lifting his robes and lubing up his prick, he positioned himself at Severus's pucker. Albus breached the first ring of muscle and stilled when he heard Severus whimper. "Relax, dear boy, relax. It will stop hurting in a second."

Severus groaned. "Move," he said, and Albus did.

It was incredible, like coming home and discovering a new continent at the same time. Severus's heat melted away the last remains of Albus's detachment, his fears and doubts, and reduced him to a stammering child.

Severus wasn't unaffected. His features were still contorted, but Albus was sure that it was lust that made him bite his lips and screw up his eyes. Sweat and tears mingled on Albus's face. With each thrust, fat drops splashed on Severus's skin like summer rain. Albus's glasses were long steamed over, and he tossed them aside. He had to move closer now to be able to see. His beard got caught between Severus's toes, and there was a short struggle before he managed to free it and press his lips to Severus's. They shared a breath, and Severus shuddered. He came in long spurts, clinging to Albus and whispering words unknown to him. A few more shallow thrusts, and Albus gave in to the overwhelming need. He shouted his triumph to the stars outside, and the portraits applauded behind their curtains.

* * *

 _The aftereffects of the_ Priapus Potion _are scarcely investigated. Freya the Frigid's headache might have simply been the result of the consumption of too much Firewhisky. (Annals of Hogsmeade, have to select passages for citation.) The infatuation between Lachlan the Lanky and Bogdan the Boar seems to have dated from long before Lachlan's successful attempt to seduce B with the help of the PP. (Sin and Simplicity. A True Story of Untrue Love. 1798.) I refuse to take Bogdan's increased growth of body hair into account as an aftereffect of the PP! (Utter drivel. Should that romance novel in disguise be taken into consideration at all?) There's reason to believe that sexual intercourse under the influence of the PP leads to a ~~strong~~ bond between the virgin and his or her sexual partner, a bond that ~~can only be broken by the death of one of the partners~~ is so strong ~~that it even overcomes death~~ that it_  
[The notes stop abruptly here. The rest of the page is filled with doodles and illegible potion formulas.] ********

* * *

Severus's body was ridiculously lightweight with the help of only a simple spell. Albus took him into his arms and climbed the stairs to his bedroom. Under the covers of his four-poster bed, he pressed himself against Severus's thin form, relishing the other man's snore. The gods had given him an invaluable present tonight, a second chance. He would treasure it, care for the little plantlet hope until it had grown into a big and beautiful flower. Severus wouldn't destroy him like Gellert had done, wouldn't take his life from him and leave him cold like the stones of ancient prison walls. Severus was his resurrection.

 

* * *

 ***** Severus Snape, _Subtle Science and Exact Art. Potions and Antidotes_ (London/Hogsmeade: Flourish and Blotts, 2008), 205.

 ****** Priapus was a god of fertility in ancient Greece. The son of Aphrodite and Dionysus, he was cursed with impotence, ugliness and foul-mindedness while he was still in his mother's womb. The gods banished him from Mount Olympus, and he lived with Pan and the satyrs among shepherds. His impotence made him an outsider even in his exile and was the source of ceaseless frustration. In the end, his unfulfilled lust left him with a permanent erection. His penis grew so large that he was unable to move.

 ******* Snape, _Subtle Science_ , 546.

 ******** Luna Lovegood, _The Man Behind the Myth. The Unpublished Documents of Severus Snape_ (Ottery St. Catchpole: Xenophilius Press, 2097), 132.


End file.
